


At the Skate Park

by Slice_of_Apple



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: A little sweetness to it, Alternate Universe - High School, Boys Kissing, Denial of Feelings, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Homophobia, Ice Cream, M/M, Romance, Skateboarding, Suppression of gay feelings, Sweaty Eren, indirect gay slurs, smooches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:41:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26152063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slice_of_Apple/pseuds/Slice_of_Apple
Summary: High School senior Jean Kirstein falls hard at the skate park.
Relationships: Jean Kirstein/Eren Yeager
Comments: 5
Kudos: 89





	At the Skate Park

It’s the start of summer vacation before Jean’s senior year of high school. He has nothing to do for the three weeks before his internship begins. A couple of his friends are still in town. He doesn’t really want to spend time with them, though. He feels antsy with his friends, as though he’s itching for some changes. He ends up going to the skate park. It’s been years since he’s been. Jean started skateboarding to get out of himself, to get out of the world. It used to be the only way he could truly let go. He would get lost in the heady sensation of the wind whipping past, of flying through the air. He doesn’t remember why he stopped going.

Jean is just getting into it, his body remembering the curves, when he notices someone flashing through the bowl, smooth and easy. The guy doesn’t do anything particularly spectacular. It’s the way he looks as he moves, loose-limbed but intense, all controlled, easy grace. The skate park is full of graceful, feline bodies. But this guy is something else altogether, and Jean is immediately hooked. His eyes are intense, too. Green and deep like the ocean, right up in his face, but also distant, like stars. Jean can’t help but wax ineptly poetic when he sees this guy. He forces himself to look away. The skate park is no place to lose focus.

Three days later, they exchange their first words.

“You gonna go?” Jean hadn’t realized it, but Skate God is right behind him. His voice is easy, with a hint of roughness. Jean’s mouth goes dry. He feels slightly faint. Skate God steps closer, and it’s as though Jean can feel his breath on his neck. He blushes and shakes his head.

“Nah, I’ll wait. You go ahead.” But as he steps aside, he can’t help looking at the guy’s chest, his eyes full of longing. The guy catches Jean’s gaze. There’s no question that he’s seen Jean looking, and that he also knows what Jean means by the look. His eyes widen.

_Fuck!_ Jean is always so careful. He never lets his feelings show. What the hell has happened to him? He can figure that out later. Right now he needs to escape. He’ll never come back to this fucking skate park. He’s got his board up. He’s over the fence. He’s across the field. He’s gone.

Jean is not 100% sure he’s gay. He tries not to think about it too much. It’s a frightening concept for him. It doesn’t matter how much his school preaches Tolerance or Equal Rights. It doesn’t matter how many pictures of rainbows are plastered up on the walls. It doesn’t even matter how the global LGBTQ community is blossoming and strengthening every day. Jean’s friends still say, “That’s so gay,” whenever something is stupid or gross. “You fag” is a common enough insult, one that always prompts denial and outrage. Jean doesn’t want to be gay. 

Skate God immediately makes this much harder, though. When Jean touches himself later that night, moaning into his pillow, no matter how hard he tries to focus his mind on images of girls in bikinis, it keeps zooming back to Skate God. Jean finds himself imagining what it would feel like to touch Skate God’s burnished skin; what it would feel like to have Skate God touch him. 

He stays away from the park for a little over a week. By then, he’s only got one free week left, and he hopes that guy will be long gone or will have forgotten about him. Why should he remember Jean, anyway? It was only a momentary glance. Plus, that skate park is the best one around. Skateboarding on the street, or at the lame park next to Jean's house, where he has to watch out for all the 5-year olds, isn’t cutting it for him.

When he shows up at the skate park again, Skate God isn’t there. Even though that’s what Jean told himself he wanted, he can’t help but feel a flicker of disappointment. It’s been 8 ¾ days, after all (but who’s counting?). He’s craving the sight of that guy like he craves an icy glass of water after hours at the park.

Today, he goes deep into the bowl, up, down, and around, in dizzying swoops. When he finally emerges, jumps up the side on top, he comes face-to-face with Skate God. Skate God must have already been there for awhile, because sweat is trickling down one side of his face.

“Nice one, man.” That same liquid voice, rough around the edges.

Jean automatically steps back, forgetting he’s at the edge. It’s only Skate God’s quick reflexes, grabbing onto Jean’s wrist, that stop him from tumbling down.

“Whoa there, steady,” the guys says, as he easily reels Jean in. When Jean is solidly back on his feet, Skate God lets go. Jean instantly misses the pressure against his wrist.

“Come with me?” Skate God says. It’s a question. Jean can only nod and follow.

He leads Jean out of the gate, along the sidewalk. His walking is not as smooth as his skating. It’s almost like he takes off his wings when he steps off his board. He’s jangly, awkward, all bony elbows and knees. Jean likes it. It makes him seem less like Skate God and more like Skate Guy.

“What’s your name?” Skate Guy asks. “I’m Eren.”

“Jean,” says Jean.

“Do you like ice cream, Jean?“ Eren is looking down when he says it, picking at a scab on his forearm. He’s got plenty to choose from: scrapes on his hands, his elbows, his knees. _Pick, pick_. He doesn’t look up. 

“Yeah, I like ice cream," says Jean. He's not sure why they had to leave the skate park to establish that fact, but, hey, Jean loves ice cream.

Eren swings his board down and jumps on. ‘

When Jean doesn’t follow suit, he turns back, frowning. “You coming?”

“Now?” asks Jean, surprised. 

“Yeah,” says Eren, like it’s obvious what he was asking. Whether Jean wanted to go get ice cream with him. Pronto.

"O-o-o-kay," stutters Jean. His heart is going a mile a minute. He's not sure what this excursion will signify. Is it a date? Is it just cool ice cream on a hot day? Is it an ice cream celebrating the fact that Jean didn’t fall into the bowl and break both his legs? Whatever it is, Jean is now in. 

Jean steps on his own board, and lets Eren take the lead. It’s nice to skate there, because they don’t have to talk. He can just follow Eren. Jean drinks in the sight of him, which is refreshing, seeing as he hasn’t been able to see Eren for over a week. He’s sorry that it’s only a few blocks to the ice cream place.

Eren buys him an ice cream. Jean lets him, because he doesn’t have his wallet anyway. They walk slowly back to the park, both occupied with keeping hold of their boards and their ice creams. They end up sitting against a tree that’s off to the side, a bit out of view. The ice cream is deliciously cool and sweet in Jean’s mouth.

“Thanks,” he says. “It’s really good. I haven’t had ice cream in forever. ” They both take off their helmets. Jean gulps quietly into his ice cream cone. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything sexier than Eren’s dark, sweaty hair, matted to his head. Unless it’s the incredibly erotic sight of Eren’s tongue licking his ice cream. He turns slightly so as to avoid the disturbingly tempting view altogether.

“Do you live nearby?” he asks, as a distraction.

“Yeah. I’m staying at my grandparents' place.”

“Oh.”

“My mom died a few months ago, and my dad and I aren't getting along too well. I'm supposed to do my last year of high school here.”

Jean doesn’t know what to say to this. It’s a lot of information. “I’m sorry,” he says.

“It’s not _your_ fault,” Eren snaps irritably.

He catches sight of Jean’s expression, and adds hastily, “Sorry! I get annoyed when people take responsibility for things they aren’t accountable for.”

“I didn’t know what else to say,” admits Jean apologetically. “It sounds horrible.”

“Yeah,” says Eren. “It’s pretty bad.” He shakes his head, as though he’s shaking off his shitty life, and says, “But I’m sitting here eating ice cream with you, and that skate park is the best one I’ve ever been to. So let’s talk about something else.”

It turns out they both like movies, only not the same kind.

“No way!” says Jean. “That was the stupidest, most asinine movie ever made. The characters were like cardboard cutouts, the dialogue was wooden, the-“

Eren interrupts him. “Who cares about the dialogue? It was nonstop action. Those robots are the coolest thing that’s been on the screen since… since… I don’t know when. Maybe ever!”

“Idiot,” says Jean, picking some grass and throwing it at Eren. Eren grunts, smiling, and brushes it off.

“You have ice cream on your face,” he says, pointing towards Jean’s cheek.

“Oh,” Jean blushes, and wipes his cheek.

“You just moved it around,” says Eren with a little laugh, pointing lower on Jean’s face.

Jean scrapes the skin next to his mouth.

“You, uh, still missed some of it,” says Eren. He gets up on his knees in front of Jean. Moving deliberately, giving Jean plenty of opportunity to stop him, he takes Jean’s chin in his hand. He has an odd look in his eyes, both determined and challenging. Jean sits perfectly still, following Eren with his eyes. What is Eren going to do? Wipe the ice cream off Jean's face himself? Jean wonders how he feels about Eren doing that, and he decides he likes the idea. Eren brings his own face in closer to Jean’s. Then, like a cat, Eren delicately licks an area just below Jean’s lower lip.

Jean freezes over. He’s a deer caught in headlights. He doesn’t know where to look. He can feel the heat rising in his cheeks. Ice cream drips onto his fingers; he drops the remains of his cone into the grass. All he can think is that Eren fucking _licked his face_. It felt weird, too. Wet and kind of gross, but also undeniably sensual.

Eren’s cheeks are bright red, but he hasn’t let go of Jean’s chin, and he hasn’t moved very far backwards, either. His face is inches from Jean’s. Every time Jean flicks his eyes towards Eren, he finds Eren staring back at him. The challenging look is still there, but now there’s also a question mixed in with it.

The ball is definitely in Jean’s court. He doesn’t know what to do. He could push Eren away, make a big stink about how he doesn’t want that, what the fuck was Eren doing. Or he could dive into the deep end. Jean’s never been much for taking emotional risks, but there’s something about Eren’s blatant invitation ( _he licked Jean’s face!_ ) that lends him courage. He leans in. Jean keeps his eyes open, and he sees exactly when Eren realizes that Jean is going to kiss him, and how the corners of Eren’s eyes crinkle in delight. That sets Jean’s heart pounding so hard he feels like Eren can hear it, like maybe they can hear it on the moon.

Eren’s lips are chapped, but they feel good. It feels even better when Eren’s hands tangle in Jean’s hair. He lets out a slight moan. Eren responds by running his tongue along Jean’s lower lip. Jean gasps at the sensation. Eren takes this opportunity to dart his tongue into Jean’s open mouth. Jean can’t believe how incredible it feels. It’s like an electric current running from his mouth to his groin. Eren throws himself into the kiss, as Jean should have expected. Jean already knows that Eren is a high-octane kind of guy. He’s straddling Jean’s thighs, pressing his body into Jean.

They eventually break apart, both panting. Eren sits back on Jean's outstretched legs. Jean wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Wow,” Eren says softly. Jean is surprised. He thought Eren would be used to kisses like that.

“Yeah,” agrees Jean. He reaches out to brush Eren's cheek with his finger. _Beautiful_ , he thinks. But he must have said it out loud, because Eren’s head tilts, and he has a startled look on his face. Jean wonders briefly at that, but there’s no time to figure it out, because at this inconvenient moment, Eren’s phone alarm blares.

“Shit!” he says, slipping the phone out of his pocket in order to turn off the alarm. “I gotta run. The only absolute condition for me living with them is that I have to be on time for dinner. Can I see you again?” He sounds like he really wants to know, like he doesn’t already know the answer. Jean finds this crazy. Isn’t it obvious?

“Yeah,” he whispers. “I’d like that.” It’s the understatement of the century. But it’s the best his scrambled brain can come up with. Two hours ago he hadn’t even kissed a guy, and now he’s gone on a date – Jean is definitely counting it as a date- and made out with unbelievable hottie Eren. Of course Jean wants to see him again. Unless Jean spontaneously combusts, which is not outside the realm of possibility. 

“See you here tomorrow? Around 3?”

  
Jean nods. Before Eren can stand up, Jean shoots out a hand and grabs him. He pulls Eren in for a kiss, a quick one. He can’t stand the thought of Eren leaving without kissing him once more. Eren’s face opens into a huge smile. He winks at Jean and scrambles to his feet. Eren hops onto his board, all fluid grace and kinetic energy. Then he’s gone, like a mirage in the desert.

Maybe it isn’t so bad to be gay, after all. Maybe Jean kind of likes it. Maybe he can’t fucking wait until his second date with Skate God – with _Eren_ \- tomorrow. 

**Author's Note:**

> pls correct me if any skating lingo off; i don't know any of that stuff


End file.
